


What People Don't Write About

by grump_ass



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Aaron is a sentimental gay but he doesnt shove it in Maria's face, Alexander is a dick, Emotional Abuse, Gen, Internalized Self Hate, Internalized Victim Blaming, James Reynolds was a pimp and a drunk, Maria is grey ace, Maria thinks she's stupid, Maria was a cinnamon roll, Mentions of dubious consent, She's NOT stupid, Verbal Abuse, mentions of abuse, not graphic, not graphic i tried to skip over it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7094935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grump_ass/pseuds/grump_ass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maria could barely even read the pamphlet that would ruin her's and Alexander's life, but what she could made her feel sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What People Don't Write About

**Author's Note:**

> Somebody fucking hold Maria please.

Maria thought it was a trick of the wind when she heard the name ‘Maria Reynolds.’ She heard it again later, but tried to shake it off; just a trick, just her brain, it’s not really her name-

 

Then she heard Alexander Hamilton’s name and then her name, and she knew it was about her.

 

She stopped in the middle of the street, and saw a stack of papers between two gentlemen’s hands. They seemed enthralled in what they were reading, whispering amongst themselves. She hurried past them, hoping they wouldn’t see her, wouldn’t notice her staring and wonder if, maybe, she was the woman in the pamphlet.

 

“Scandalous. To think a man would let his own wife sleep with the secretary of treasury and tarnish his reputation.”

 

Maria flushed, but kept going; she needed to get to her daughter, and she needed to go home, where whatever the hell this was couldn’t touch her. 

 

Susan seemed equally concerned when Maria got to her.

 

“What’s wrong, baby?”

 

“I keep hearing your name today,” she replied, reaching up and taking Maria’s hand in hers. 

 

Maria’s blood ran cold. “What else did you hear?”

 

“That some guy paid papa money. But I can’t tell what for. Did he owe papa money?”

 

As she suggested this, Maria saw the doubt in Susan’s eyes, and for good reason; nobody owed James money, James owed others money. The Reynolds family had been in debt since before they even became the Reynolds family. Extorting Hamilton had been one of James’ many schemes to make money, fast, Maria’s wishes be damned. 

 

Maria sometimes wondered if James had married her for any reason other than to use her as a financial pawn, or a thing to use. She usually came to the conclusion that, no, any affection he may have had for her was merely in his own interest.

 

Which was why Maria had felt guilty for going along with James’ plan. While Alexander did cheat on his wife with ease, not that Maria could judge, really, he did genuinely try to be kind to Maria. Of course, he gave up on this when he received James’ letter, but Maria couldn’t very well judge that either. If he chose not to pay off James, his entire political career, and probably his marriage, would be decimated in one fell swoop, and he would never recover from the blow. 

 

Which was why James had sent her to him; Alexander had poor impulse control and  a reputation to uphold. He didn’t need an affair to sully his good name, especially with a woman who could barely write legibly. So; he paid James his money, and Maria was stuck being the other woman of the secretary of treasury to the United States. 

 

Maria led Susan down the street. As she passed her work, a small laundry that employed several dozens of poverty stricken women, a coworker noticed her and called out.

 

“My dearest Maria,” she cried when Maria neared, “Have you read the pamphlets.”

 

Maria cringed slightly, and the woman apologized before continuing; “These are terrible, Maria. You would never?”

 

When Maria did nothing to refute these claims, and merely hung her head in shame, the woman gasped.

 

“Maria, why would you ever?”

 

“I had to,” she managed weakly. “What does it say?”

 

She hesitated, before summarizing, “Well, it, uhm, says that mister Hamilton and you were… intimate.”

 

Maria flushed. 

 

“And mister Hamilton paid James sums of money, and that you were together for three years.”

 

Maria nodded. “We were, that’s true.”

 

“And when it first started, mister Hamilton told his wife to stay away, and she believed that he just wanted her to have a break from home.”

 

Maria stiffened. “He what?” she whispered.

 

“He never told you?”

 

“I thought his wife just wanted to stay longer,” she whispered weakly. Elizabeth Schuyler, the prominent daughter of Philip Schuyler. This would do colossal damage to her public image as well. Alexander had made a fool of her. “His poor wife.”

 

Susan tugged on her skirt. “What happened to her, mama?”

 

“Nothing, baby. Her husband just did a very bad thing.”

 

_ And I helped him do it.  _

 

“Can we help her?” Susan asked innocently, standing on her tiptoes and looking up at Maria.

 

“There isn’t much we can do for her,” Maria explained. When she looked back to her coworker, she realized that her face was pointedly unreadable. It took Maria a moment to understand why she bore the expression she did.

 

“...I will see you tomorrow.”

 

“Yes. You will.”

 

“Good Night.”

 

She gave Maria a careful nod, and that was all of the comfort Maria would receive on the matter that day.

 

When she arrived home, James was drunk, as Maria had guessed he would be, and passed out at the kitchen table. Maria ushered Susan past him, leading Susan to her room and shutting the door. She crept past James once more, and began preparing dinner as quietly as she could. 

 

Fortunately, he woke up as she was close to finishing, and kept to himself. Maria finished dinner and called Susan to the table. The girl hid partially behind Maria until she was reluctantly shooed away to sit down across from her heavily intoxicated father. Maria sat down dinner before them and sat between the two, holding her breath as they ate. 

 

She hoped that he was happy. He had better be, she thought defiantly, He had ruined a man’s life and humiliated a good woman. Maria prayed that he was satisfied; she didn’t want to ruin another marriage and another career for him ever again.

 

James spoke; “I saw the papers.”

 

“As did I,” Maria said, looking wearily at Susan. 

 

“It worked well. His entire life is in shambles.”

 

Maria tightened her grip on her cutlery. 

 

“I suppose that’s true,” she said carefully. 

 

James hummed thoughtfully, and Susan kept her head down and eyes averted, chewing in silence.

 

“You’re going to have to lie about your name next time.”

 

Maria’s stomach sank. “Next time?” She asked shakily.

 

“Well,” James continued, “We know now that any of these rich assholes will stick it in you and pay whatever we ask to keep us quiet.”

 

“James,” she protested quietly, looking over at Susan. 

 

“It’s alright, Maria, she’ll figure it out eventually anyway.”

 

Maria didn’t want her daughter to know. Even if she wasn’t just seven, Maria never wanted anybody to think that she enjoyed what James made her do. It made her sick, made her go out of her mind so that she could avoid the sensations and what was happening. She hated intimacy, and she hated doing it so that James could blackmail men and ruin their lives and pin the blame on her.

 

“I don’t want her to-”

 

“Do you think I care what you want, Maria.”

 

Maria gulped, and her shoulders bowed for a moment as she forced herself to breathe slowly, to calm down, to stay there and finish eating so she could get away from him.

 

“Do you?”

 

“No,” she managed, “I suppose you don’t.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

“James, please, not in front of Susan-”

 

“And why is that, Maria,” he repeated.

 

So, Maria said why, through tears and the bitter taste in her throat.

* * *

Aaron Burr was a good man. A genuinely good one. He didn’t expect anything from Maria, helped her divorce and sever ties with James Reynolds in one fell swoop, and kept her and her daughter as far away from him as possible.

 

He even helped Susan receive a private education, which Maria prayed would get her farther than she herself had. As Susan’s knowledge and vocabulary grew, Maria’s heart soared for her smart little daughter.

 

Sometimes Aaron talked about his wife, or his own small daughter, Theodosia. He spoke fondly of them, with a smile on his face as he detailed all the things that made small Theo excited and how Theodosia was doing despite her poor health.

 

He avoided mentioning Alexander, although Maria could have sworn she saw a stack of letters with his handwriting on Aaron’s desk, and a coat of his draped over chairs in Aaron’s office. Burr was a tactful man, aware that the name Alexander Hamilton sent chills down her spine and made her heart race. Maria once peeked at a letter between them, and while a lot of the flowery language and excessive use of commas escaped her, she understood that Burr and Hamilton shared an unusual closeness that she chose not to bring up.

 

When Aaron would shoot Alexander years later, at Weehawken, Maria would feel an incredible sadness for Aaron. The poor man had done nothing wrong, and there were rumors that he called for Alexander after he shot him. There were also rumors that Alexander called for him, too, but those were quickly dashed by Alexander’s son. 

  
Aaron, too, would have had his entire life ruined by Alexander. And whether or not he had loved them both couldn’t change what he had done to them.

**Author's Note:**

> On Tumblr at grump-ass


End file.
